What's it like in New York City?
by lewarblers
Summary: Blaine is out in Iraq fighting a war he wish he never got into. One thing that keeps him going? Kurt's letters. First chapter was just a start, the next couple will be the letters and bringing in a story line. Rated T for language!
1. Christmas time!

**A/N. Another one of my small creations. It was actually my audition for this RPG and I got in! There will be drabbles of real writing and then others will be letters.**

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><p><em>Hello, sweetheart!<em>

_ So, if you are reading this I would like to wish you a very very happy Christmas, sadly I don't get to spend it with you but I'm still there, in that large heart of yours. I miss you. I miss you every day. You are probably sick of me even saying it but I do darling, there isn't a second I'm not wishing to be close to you, to hold you or to be held. You're my everything, your my light, my guide, my home. I love you, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel with every atom of my body. _

_ Now, enough with all the sloppy stuff, I know why you have kept reading this letter. Your Christmas presents! Well, if you would ever be so kind as to walk to our bedroom. Upon the top of the wardrobe, stuffed right in the corner is a shoe box. Don't roll you eyes, I know you are, this is romantic, I promise. Well, as romantic as I can get. So, get that box down and open it up._

_ Inside should be a scrap book. Don't worry if it looks old or is torn a little. I have had it since the day I met you, no lie. Now, here's a trip down memory lane... _

_ The morning before I met you I set off to buy a book, inside I was going to collect all my notes from the rest of the school year but I was so wrong. I met you; I fell in love with you from the moment I laid my eyes on _you. I shoved that pocket watch back in my pocket and took your hand and I felt nothing but electricity._ _

_So, inside this scrap book is our memories. Little passages from my teenage self gushing over how perfect you are - silly photos we took which I have stuck in. It passes on, believe me, I think I have written a 100 pages... There are things I have written about our first fight, first kiss, and first time. Every special moment is laid out in this book, even the stupid silly ones where I just ramble on about how adorable you were when you made me watch a episode of 'America's Next Top Model' and the way you were judging every girl, you were just, so perfect. You still are._

_ Now, back to the pocket watch. Inside this box should be another box. I know, it's like box-inception. If you haven't guessed already inside is the very same pocket watch the day I met you. But here's the twist. I didn't even realise I did it when I did but apparently I pressed the button upon the top, since the first day I met you the stop watch has been going. Crazy, right? It tells the exact time we met. It baffled me how it hasn't even run out or just stopped it's self but at the same time I see it as a sign, the clock will run for as long as we love each other. Oh and I also had it engraved, you may see 'I've been looking for you forever' upon in. My father would kill me if he knew I engraved it, it was my grandfathers and everything..._

_ And before I run outta paper I'd like you to know you have one present left, but you will have to wait until I get home to have it, and no it isn't me! It's not much but, it's the best I can do. Now I'm quoting Moulin Rouge, I really need to get some sleep.._

_I love you baby, I need you to stay strong for me. I know you can do it. I know you are able to hold your head high. I miss you like crazy, I love you. I am always with you, always._

_ Merry Christmas, Sweetheart. Love from, your Prince, Blaine. ox._

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><p>Slinking back into his cot at the positioned tent in the middle of Iraq Blaine let out an exhausted sigh. He missed home. He missed Kurt, his beautiful face to wake up to in the morning, the warmth of his hold and the small kisses he would pepper him in as a he awoke.<p>

He missed the fresh smell of coffee, the simple daily chatter, the small and simple things in life, he missed.

He let out another sigh as his half dirty palm came up to rub the sleep from his eyes, looking to find his torch upon his bed to unfold light to break through the dim darkness. The small muttered of gruff voices could be heard outside and a kick of a stone, Blaine waiting till they disappeared to pull something from his pocket, something he held close all day in a desperate hope for a second to spare just to read, now was that time.

He brought out the white paper that had slightly crumbled, admiring the neat straight way the stamps had been stuck on, rolling his eyes as he let out a slight chuckle. Kurt was so perfect, in everything he did. His fingers traced over the seal, fingering at the paper before hooking his thumb underneath, tearing through it to bring out a small pocketed letter. A beaming smile came to Blaine's face as he leant forward and smelt it, a tear coming to his eye as he smelt the distant fragrance of Kurt. They had promised to spray somewhat aftershave or something to remember each other by upon their letter, encase it and send it away just for that something to hold on to.

It broke Blaine's heart, smelling Kurt but not holding him nor seeing him in his arms. But this would do for now, it had too.

He unfolded the paper in his hands, noticing his them shaking as he did so and his finger tips holding onto the paper with as little pressure as he could, treating it with the most delicate touch. His eyes slowly skimmed over the words, his heart pounding in his chest as he took in the small details, the way Kurt's pen would curve, the slight ink blotches and Blaine made out the slightest tear trace.

As it came to the end of the letter Blaine read and studied every letter that Kurt had marked down, as if he was holding onto the moment, not wanting to let go and allow reality to drag him back. But it did, and it hurt. He slowly folded the letter, placing it back into its envelope before bring out a small picture, a picture of he and Kurt upon a wintery day in central park, their cheeks and noses red, Blaine looking clean and not tired for once. He loved that day; he missed that day but held onto the memory.

Leaning forward he kissed the small face of Kurt's, pulling back with a sigh as he wished away the ushered tears.

Blaine missed home, he missed Kurt.

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><p><em>Dear Prince Charming,<em>

_ Blaine, you're incredible. I'm just sitting here crying over the scrapbook and crying over the watch and crying over that picture, and I just can't even take it. God, Blaine, you're perfect and there's no way around it. You're a perfect human being and my perfect boyfriend and I just want you home so I can hold onto you and never ever let go. I need you Blaine, more than you know. I need you._

_ And you know, Blaine, you know me too well. I rolled my eyes right as I read to go find a shoebox, and actually gasped, as you said not to. You know me perfectly, Blaine. It's crazy._

_ I've literally been sitting here with the scrapbook and sobbing over it for the past two hours. It smells like you, Blaine. It smells so much like you and your stupid cologne that I pretend to hate but I actually love and it's just you and I don't even know what to say besides I love it. I love it with all of my heart and I'm not letting go of it until you come back. All of these pictures—Blaine, in half of them we're, like, teenagers, and this is all so precious. And I love that one picture of us on Halloween when you were Batman and I was Robin— how old were we, eighteen? We went trick or treating and I remember wanting to hold your hand so god damn badly, so I just held onto arm like I was pretending to lead you around, but I just wanted to feel you. I remember that night. We went back to my house and we started feeding each other candy, and then I threw one at you and you tackled me… I miss that. I miss it so much, Blaine. I can't begin to thank you enough for this whole scrapbook, because it's bringing back all these memories and I just can't even take it. Oh my god, I just looked at a picture I took of you when you were shaving. I remember, I made you cut your chin, and I started freaking out._

_ And the watch. Blaine, it's perfect. It still says 9:47. That was the time I saw you upon the stairs, when I cast my eyes upon you for the first time, your adorable puppy eyes. I felt my heart skip a beat, Blaine. I really did. And then you held my hand, you held my hand down an open corridor, where people could see. That was like speaking a foreign language to me and expecting me to understand it. And when you sang the song, our song, I knew that you were someone I couldn't let slip from my life. That day, Blaine. November 9th, 2010 was the best day of my life because it was the day I found you. There was no regrets, just love._

_ Oh my god, another one? Another present! Blaine, I hardly need anything else. Well, I mean, having you home would be nice. But You've already given me so much.. And that brings me to your presents._

_ So, in the box should be a basket. It's got all of your favourite shampoos and aftershaves and conditioners and I bought you a new razor, because you need it. And there should be a brush in there, too. And a scissor. I have no idea how they let me send it, but there you have it. You're now able to cut your hair. You're welcome._

_ Also inside the box is my favourite—and only—sweatshirt. You practically live in it at home, and it killed me to see you leave it behind. Just in case it gets cold over there, I want you wearing it, you hear me? I'm not letting my baby get hypothermia while I'm living in a heated apartment. I will not let that happen._

_ The second to last one is in another box. I got you boxception, too! But really, open it. So.. there's an elementary school, just up the road. I got permission to ask all of the art teachers to have them make cards for the soldiers, and that's what's in the box. A bunch of them asked what names to put down, and I told a handful of them to give it to Sergeant Blaine Anderson. The ones in the small box are the ones that have your name on them. The ones that are just tied together in a pile with string are for all of the soldiers. Make sure they get them, okay?_

_ Lastly, there should be a pencil case in there, with a bunch of new pencils and pens and pencil sharpeners in it. Attached should be 150 new pieces of paper, that way you'll never run out. I would never allow you to run out, not on my watch. There's no way I'm allowing a possibility of you not being able to write to me. No way, no how._

_ I'm trying, Blaine. Believe me, I'm trying. I'm trying just for you, I promise, lovebug. I miss you too. So much._

_ Merry Christmas to you too, baby. Love, me._

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><p><strong>AN. Hope you enjoyed! The next chapters are just going to be the letter being sent back and fore and stuff. I will have a plot line running through this.**


	2. Happy New Year!

**A/N. Hello! Thank you for staying with this story as such. Hope you enjoy and review!**

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><p>Kurt was always the top dog when it came to fashion. he lived and breathed it, and that was what inspired him to go into the business. His mother had always dressed him in the best clothes as a young child— up until she died. Kurt had been young, but he had been strong. He still is. Ever since he was young, Kurt had been a very feminine boy. Always having tea parties with himself, wearing clothes a child of seven normally wouldn't. He had always been different. As Kurt got older, he realized to embrace his differences, and it wasn't long after he started to embrace himself was when he realized he was gay. There was no hiding it, either, or shame. Kurt was proud of who he was, and he always would be<p>

Kurt was now 20 and out in the big wild world on New York and was working on setting his fashion line. His life was perfect, except for one piece. He had a gorgeous boyfriend, don't get him wrong but that boyfriend was away in the war, that boyfriend was fighting every day and risking his life to save others. Sure, Kurt was proud of him, so so proud of him and wouldn't drag the other boy back for his own needs but like anyone else with people out in the war he was scared and he just wanted his boyfriend home with him. Kurt hated coming home from work on days, wanted to stay and brim in all the fashion, to spark up his designs and do what he could to get his line finished and more to the fact that he always came home to a empty house. His house was empty, the spirit of Blaine gone and damn did Blaine have some spirit. Last Christmas, when Blaine was home, Kurt rushed home, expecting something romantic and heartfelt but no – Blaine had attacked the apartment with Christmas decorations.

But then there were some days when Kurt loved to come home, he had always counted the days, the days until he got a letter. He would count how many it took for Blaine to get his own and knew without a doubt that Blaine would write him one straight away and have it posted the same or next day and then Kurt would count the average days it would take to arrive, it had always happened like this.

The edging winter of January Kurt counted, and counted until the day came. He rushed home, holding his bag tightly as he hoped for a letter to be at his door. He ran inside and up the small flight of steps; head down as he whispered to himself, words of hope and wishes. He couldn't see where he was going and didn't even notice the person in front of him before he was running smack into them, frowning in pain but looking up in confusion. "Mr Hummel?" The voice came, Kurt's eyes look to his badge and nearly jumped for joy. It was the post man. "Y-yes?" Kurt questioned the hope building up in his voice as he looked at the man. He looked down into his hand, seeing a letter, his eyes went to the stamp and oh – it was from Blaine.

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><p><strong>Sent - January 1th.<strong>

**Arrived – January 11th.**

_Hey sweetheart,_

_Well, this is a wasted letter really, but I wanted to write it. Just in a way to feel closer to you, to let you know I'm okay and that I'm still here, just. Wow that was horrible, should I scribble that out? Wait, if I did then this wouldn't make sense. Then I'd have to scribble all this out and it'll be a just scribbled out note and you'd spend forever trying to pick letters out to create words and sentences. Stop cooing over how I'm messing up over letter. When I get home I bet your going to pull this out and tell me how adorable I am. I know you so well._

_Anyway, nothing exciting has gone over here since Christmas accepted the fact that I have washed and I have shaved with the new equipment you got me. I couldn't thank you enough for the present's baby, they were so perfect. Every man out here admired the gifts the children got for them and we got a line of string to go through some of the tents so we could dangle them upon there. It was a fun day, setting all that up. It took our minds off the situation we were in anyway._

_As I said, very quiet over here, no sign of anything in enemy lines lately. That could change from now until my next letter or phone call. Not that I won't be safe and the others in my team won't be safe, of course. I shall always keep myself safe for you, baby._

_So as I stated, this is a useless letter. A waste of the gorgeous paper you got me. Strangely I always liked paper; I like what it can do. You can crumble it up and scribble all over it and just create the most beautiful art. Oh god, I'm going mad. Save me Kurt. Do you remember that time a few days before I came out here you were drawing up for your new work portfolio and you couldn't get this one design right and you crumbled up around 10 pieces of paper and threw them at me, but then it all back lashed on you when I turned it into a paper war and we had around 40 piece of crumbled up paper around our apartment living room. I totally won that wore, throwing your hands in the air in defeat does not count as you winning darling, and we have been over this._

_I miss you, I love you. I wish I could be there, I wish you could hold me. I wish that we could take lazy showers together and then stand by our window that looks out on NYC and wrap our lower selves in a blanket and totally do it all Moulin Rouge style and just stand there, caressing and remembering ever crease in each other's body. It was be so beautiful and organic. We need to do this when I come home now; it's one of my mind sets!_

_I always hate finishing letters to you; I just want to write a huge letter one day, just a huge one. Like, 20 pages long explaining about my undying love to you. Another thin that's on my mind sets!_

_I love you beautiful. Stay strong, stay talent, stay mine._

_Love, your prince charming._

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><p><strong>Sent – January 12th<strong>

**Arrived – January 23rd.**

_Dear Blaine,_

_How did you even manage to be so wonderfully charming and dapper and gorgeous, oh and don't forget a complete adorable goober through paper? Every letter you send brings a smile to my face; never call it a waste of paper because it isn't. It means so much to me when I find I have had a letter off you, remember last Christmas when I went out and you decided to decorate the house?_

_Remember when I came home there was this huge Christmas tree in my living room, decorated with Disney characters, tinsel EVERYWHERE and fairy lights tangled but somehow placed around nearly everything. I wanted to scream, really. I was looking forward to putting the decorations out nice with you, to make the place look homely and lovely and what did you do? You took me in your arms and told me to look up, and when I did I was met with some mistletoe, and then I was met with your lips. I could have melted into you Blaine. All my anger was gone in a split second. I had to admit, as much as the house didn't look catalogue worthy, dragging two chairs next to the Christmas tree, pulling a sheet over the top and pulling pillows inside and then running fairy lights around our new tent/fort was the best way to sleep Christmas Eve night. I did have a aching back afterwards from sleeping on the floor but it was perfect._

_Everything you are is perfect Blaine, everything about you, your whole being. It makes me want to scream sometimes how I always seem to look a mess next to you. You scrub up so well. Even when you don't scrub up, when you let that gorgeous stubble of your grow a little, you still look so amazing then. It isn't fair, Blaine._

_I'm glad you had a good Christmas; mine was different to last years, obviously. It was spent mostly back in Lima, I went back to see Dad and Carole. I also visited Rachel, she was on the phone with Finn and I slipped in a 'Say hello to Blaine for me!' not sure if he passed it on.. But I slept in my old room, my dad had kept it exactly the same. It broke my heart to see, to see everything still perfect and still in order and the exactly same way I had left it. It filled me with memories. The memories of our first time in this house, of course it was the second time we had done it and it was just as special and enchanting as the first. But then the few times after that when Finn walked in on us, not so.. Oh god, remember his face? Actually don't because he sleeps in the same tent as you! But back to Christmas, I brought my scrap book down here and there were a few empty pages on the back. I hope you don't mind that I wrote in them, my darling. It was just some memories, a list really of small things. Like the first time we said that we loved each other, the actual way I nearly choked to death when you did._

_I hope Noah, Finn and Sam are okay. I know you are a perfect leader, a perfect Sergeant, but I was wondering how they are behaving. I know that Finn is doing okay seeing as the phone call I heard of Rachel but I haven't been able to get any news on Sam and Noah. Is Noah behaving? You remember what he was like in high school, please God don't say he's the same.._

_I hate finishing the letters that I write to you as well, honey. But finishing them and posting them is one of the best parts, the excitement and the thoughts of getting one back grows strong and strong every day. Hurry home my Prince, I love you._

_Love, kisses, tackle hugs and chocolate, Kurt._

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><p><strong>AN. Yay! Another chapter! I will update every Friday! Review, please? Also, my tumblr is the same as my name on here! **


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